500 Days of Freya (Merlin)

Revenge

Chapter 22

Warning/s: Not any that I can think of.

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

A/N: This was a really good prompt - kudos to ruapilot02! My dog decided to throw up when I was in the middle of writing this. Thought that might be interesting.

Prompt: ruapilot02 - "I have heard surprisingly little of how Merlin would react to meeting the woman who cursed Freya and the few times I have he always ends up showing her mercy somehow or another or is stopped mid reaction. The thing is that there are a depressingly large number of people who harmed Freya in her short life and I find it strange that some have been remembered while one party in particular has passed unnoticed. Everyone remembers that her misfortune began with being attacked by some man whom she killed in self defense. The man's mother then cursed her in retaliation. She fell in to the hands of the bounty hunter and was brought to Camelot in chains. She met Merlin and he lost her tragically, on Arthurs blade no less. However few have addressed how halgi captured her. For truth be told she was not so much captured as she was betrayed. The druids to whom she either sought out or grew up with abandoned her they refused to keep trying to help her they turned her away and sold her to a man who they knew would mistreat her and have her killed. They went against everything that they supposedly stand for and I can't help but think that Merlin would react far more violently towards them for such a crime than he would an old woman driven half mad with grief."

Merlin was on a mission. He was rarely this angry, but today he was livid, fuming. The druids were meant to be a peaceful people, protecting all and fighting none, but these druids had turned Freya away when she was most in need. They had gone against their own morals because they were too cowardly and scared.

He had been dwelling on the matter that morning, and all of the night before that. It was their fault that Freya had died, and he was going to ensure that they paid the penalty for it.

He set off at first light, letting his magic guide him to the nearest druidic camp. He could not be sure which particular group had turned her away, but if this one wasn't the group that had cast her out, they would know where to go.

His boots stomped along the path to the woods. They had deliberately thrown Freya out, without even trying to help her, and given her to a man who they knew would mistreat her and eventually lead to her death.

And that was not something that Merlin was inclined to forgive.

As it happened, the first group he stumbled upon where the druids who had cast her out. The woman who was by the first tent was startled to see him, and mumbled 'Emrys' as he passed. Merlin ignored her and walked to the middle of the camp, where he knew the leader's tent would be.

All of those who he passed bowed their heads, and grew uneasy. They could obviously sense his foul mood that tinted his magic. He remained silent until he reached the innermost tent, and was greeted by the leader.

"Emrys," he said politely, though his eyes were cold and it was obviously not sincere. "Would you like to talk?"

"Yes. Now," Merlin growled, stalking into the man's tent.

He wasted no time on niceties. "Why did you cast Freya out from your community? She was seeking safety."

"She endangered us," the man said coldly. "The way she turned at night; we would all be dead within the week. What was I supposed to do, Emrys?"

"Save her," Merlin snapped. He was growing steadily angrier, and as he did so he could feel his magic bubbling and boiling underneath the surface. "You are the most practised in magic out of all of those of the Old Religion. You should have at least tried."

The man shrugged, and his nonchalant attitude infuriated Merlin. He was acting like Freya was not a girl but just a curse, a burden to them. "She is dead now, or so we hear. So I am not concerned with matters of a dead girl."

That was when Merlin snapped; his magic flowed out through his finger tips and throughout the camp. There were screams from the people as their tents were ripped apart by invisible claws, as their food turned sour and rotten. All of their water turned to flames and the ground cracked beneath their feet.

Merlin stalked from the tent, full of anger still. Not only had this man been responsible for Freya's death, he did not even care about what he had done. He had no remorse as his grief for Freya grew and grew.

A/N: She threw up again as I was editing Christ